Once
by Xes-ano-l
Summary: This is basically what happened throughout Mexico's years. I might add extensions of what happened during everything, but those would be separate stories. Take note that presently, Mexico would be 18. I don't count him and the Aztec Empire as one person.


It was some time ago, not too far back, that he had a, 'daughter.' He referred to her as California, his promising land of wealth in gold. She was such a pretty little thing, always smiling and singing when he visited. Her deep brown locks and precious brown eyes were some of the richest in color, and he made her proud. Mexico didn't always view her this way anymore, not since the revolt. But let's forget of that for now, and go back to the days when California had not even met an American.

It was a hot morning in Mexico, as was common. Manuel suddenly sat up in bed, his light brown eyes were wide open. He clenched at his chest, taking in deep, heavy breaths. His eyes shut tightly, and instincts made his hand reach out to grab the bed post in order to support him out of bed. He stumbled from the sudden pain, used to it as he was, he couldn't endure this one. He stood, or rather, slumped there with both hands now pressing his chest. He waited for it to pass, what else could he do? For the past week he had had been woken up by sharp pains in the chest, indicating that something was very wrong in his country.

Finally. He slowly opened his eyes, his lips were slightly parted, and his pulse was a little quicker than usual. He straightened himself and stood there for a moment, almost _afraid_ to get up once more. The young nation gritted his teeth, clenched his fists, and slowly walked out of his room with tensed shoulders.

_There_, he thought bitterly, _that's over. For now. I just have to wait until next morning to go through hell once more_.

Manuel walked out of his home, not bothering to close the door as he went out. He ran his fingers through his thick, light brown hair. He was just a teenager, around the age of 17. Just a teen! Independent from Spain, a nation, a country of his own. A teen! But Spain warned him, even threatened that he would not last on his own. For the past days, Manuel wondered if such were true. He shook his head and immediately dismissed the thought; he wouldn't let Spain get in his head. Not today, anyway.

He headed to his backyard, careful not to bump into any cactus. He always grew cactus plants, he loved to cook on his own with the plants he grew. A hose was near one of these plants. He simply picked it up and turned the water on. With one cupped hand, he let the water pour into it, then splashed his face. The icy water woke him up, just as he had intended it to. He placed the hose over his head, and let the continuous water run down his back and his arms. It sent a chill through his spine, but it was the quickest way to wash the dirt away. He had bad back pain, it made him irritable, but he also thought it was because of, 'old age.'

He gathered up the supplies for another day of field work. Just as he was about to leave, he heard soft giggling. He quickly glanced around, the sound had not frightened him but instead surprised him. People rarely came to visit him, maybe it was the Catrina trying to play games again. His eyebrows furrowed at the thought, he didn't like the spirits coming to make a mess. His thoughts lifted however, when he turned to see a small girl of 7 in trousers. He smiled warmly at the child. In silence they embraced each other, no words were needed for one to understand the other.

The child started giggling again, pushing Manuel away from her. Manuel reluctantly let go, but he kept smiling at the girl. He hastily wiped some dirt off her pink cheek, about to open his mouth to speak. His chance was taken though, when the little one raised a small hand in protest.

"I know what your thinking, but I wasn't riding again. Texas and I went out to get some fruit. And you know how it is daddy! It can get awful dirty, but dirt don't matter so much."

"As long as you're not bothering the horses, you can do whatever you want," Manuel teased. He held the child's hand, leading her away from his house.

California referred to Mexico as, 'daddy.' Mexico wasn't actually her dad, that was Spain. He was more like her brother, but he was so mush stronger and taller that the child didn't even know. He wasn't bothered by it, it was only an affectionate name the two shared. Just as Texas could call him padre, California could call him daddy.

Mexico led his little one towards a small park, the place where he always took both the small states. He did wonder where Texas was, though he was sure the little guy was somewhere around the animals at home. With a sweeping motion, he lifted California into his arms. She laughed and struggled from his arms, only to be spun around. Both of them were laughing now, the hot sun gleaming down on their faces. Oddly, the child never ran out of energy, nor did Mexico. She flailed her arms, claiming that one day she would be the strongest state in the world. Manuel smiled at the determination of the child, and softly let her go. She slipped out of his arms, held her head in a dizzy motion, then set out to the playground.

Seven years had passed. Manuel now appeared at the age of 18 because of steady growth. As for California, she now appeared to be 15. Americans had come into her lands, and they were working the land to become beautiful crops. She had gradually gotten out of the habit of calling Mexico her dad, but rather started calling him her brother instead.

Mexico no longer took California or Texas out for walks, or spent as much time with them. They spent more time with America now, Mexico only saw this as a stage of their growth. He recently invited Americans to his states, as long as they followed Mexican rule. What he did not realize, was that the same Americans wanted his states for their own. His two largest states were under American influence now, but Manuel refused to believe such.

It was late at night, he was expecting Texas to be home by now. Texas was a young man now, he looked older than Mexico himself. Texas was a tall, muscular cowboy, grown quickly to anyone's amazement. He had soft blue eyes, but they always possessed a fierce fire in them. Manuel had never noted that assertiveness in his voice, not until that night.

Texas opened the front door to Mexico's home, silent in his steps. To his disappointment, Mexico was waiting for him on the couch. Mexico did not look up, but instead murmured, "Hola, Tejas."

Texas gave a tip of his hat, and replied, " 'Dias, Mexico."

Mexico got up from his seat, and stood in front of his state. "I suppose you were with America once again, correcto?" he said.

"True, I was with him again. Does it bother you, hermano?"

"No, I do not have to be looking out for you anymore Tejas, you've become a strong estado. I trust you will do right, and I won't have to make your decisions for you."

"Thank you, I trust myself the same." Texas spoke the words with a hint of hatred in them. He proceeded to gather his things, completely ignoring Mexico's presence. He swung the pack over his shoulder, and with much effort, he pulled Mexico into a tight hug. He quickly let go, patted the Mexican's shoulder, and headed out the door.

That was the last time in the year that Mexico even had a glimpse of him.

One year had passed. Mexico was out riding with one of his states, Sur California. He was California's twin brother, or at least, he should have appeared to be. He had the same hair and eye color as his older sibling, but he was only 10. Mexico gave him the name of Feli, short for Felipe. Since California had left to join America, Feli was closer to Manuel than ever. Manuel had also lost his glasses to America, which he hastily had to replace with new ones. Feli gladly gave up his to Manuel, claiming that he had no vision problems, which was half true on his part.

They were both on their Aztec horses, they were simply happy with one another. It had been a long day of hard riding, and the horses, accustomed to it as they were, were now exhausted. Feli was the first to notice this, and he quickly let Manuel know. Manuel kissed his small state on the forehead, thanked him, and they both let the horses walk slowly towards home. As they were riding, Mexico noticed that Felipe was quieter than usual. The cold breeze wisped passed them lightly as they rode along. Mexico finally decided to speak to the boy, knowing that it would do him well to take his mind off things.

"Dios mio Feli, you can ride faster than your own country!"

The boy smiled, flattered by Mexico's praise. "Gracias Manny, but I already know that I'm faster than speed himself."

Mexico raised an eyebrow at the boy's challenge. "Is that so?"

"That is so, amigo."

"Let us see then, if you speak truth."

At these words, both got off their horses and their feet swung to hit the ground. The boy was off in a flash, his eyes narrowing with strong determination. Mexico did the same, though his heart was light, he smiled while he ran. The boy ran, ran as if the world was at him. His heart beat against his chest, with every stride he pushed off of the ground with an even stronger step. Mexico did not run with the same passion, he didn't have a reason to. He ran for his own delight, for his and the boy's. But the young state ran to please Mexico, to show him his endurance and determination.

Time seemed endless as they both ran, but Felipe was now tiring out. Mexico's presence gave him a determination to keep running with pure might. But he was now pushing beyond his limits, his steps started to lose their rhythm, he was coughing in great fits. Manuel slowed his pace to a stop, and took the boy up into his arms. The boy did not resist, he let his older brother take him close into his embrace.

Manuel's lips were parted, he was breathing steadily as he learned to do as a trick in soccer. The boy however, did not master that trick, he had to take heavy breaths. Mexico helped him with his jacket, tossing it over his free shoulder.

They soon reached home. Felipe's breathing had become normal again, his eyes were half closed. Mexico smiled, carefully laying the boy on the bed. He sat next to him, pride seemed to swell his heart. Felipe, as it seemed, had already fallen asleep. Some minutes passed and Mexico was now beginning to doze off. He had barely closed his eyes however, when he heard a sudden knock at the door. How strange, a visitor?

Manuel slipped off his red coat and laid it on his little state. He rushed over to the door, patted down his hair, and opened the door with a warming smile. His expression quickly faded into one of silent sorrow.

It was California, already a young lady. Her brown hair fell over her shoulders, down to her lower back. She was slim, but tall. Her skin had a healthy glow to it, it was almost as if she herself were glowing. Her face had a blank expression. Mexico could not read her face. Nor could he recognize the silent state that was once his. They both stared at each other in silence, no words were needed in order for one to understand they other. Then slowly, reluctantly, Mexico said, "What is it?"

California only seemed to stiffen at the remark. This was not the country she used to live with. Not the gentle, warm, welcoming country that she could always count on. She was standing in front of another man, another nation that she was no longer part of. She removed a strand of hair from her face and said, "I just wanted to pay a visit. If I could come in then-"

"No." Was Mexico's harsh reply.

She was taken aback by his tone. "Listen, I know I did wrong in leaving. But don't you understand-"

No," Mexico irritably answered, "I don't understand. Gracias for your time, but I'm afraid you'll wake your brother. Remember? The one you _left_ for your own purpose. I don't want to see you around him, or any of my states. Stay where you belong, with America."

California bit her lip, almost furious at the restrictions Mexico was placing on her. How _dare_ he have the nerve to say such things to her! She wouldn't stand for it, what right had he to keep her away from her former family? None whatsoever, she would have justice. She held her chin high, which gave her an air of arrogance.

"That is fine, Manuel. I will, however, forgive you when you are ready to come and ask for it. I do not hold useless grudges such as you, for it is only a waste of hatred." With the last words, she turned and left his house, her head still high.

Mexico watched her leave, then when she was out of his sight, he slammed the door shut. He covered his face with his hands, holding back a frustrated breath. He glanced up when he heard soft crying. He went over to Feli, standing over him only to see the boy crying. Mexico pulled the boy close to him, as he had done with California when she cried. He stroked the boy's hair with affection while he held him close. Feli clung to him desperately, not being able to control his sobs. When he calmed down Mexico whispered in his ear, "I'll raise you to be as strong and independent as California one day, _te prometo."_


End file.
